


We Are Young

by WhyMrSpook



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: 4+1, BAMF Uhura, Hurt Kirk, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mention of sex, Nightmares, POV Jim, Past Abuse, Past Spock/Nyota Uhura, Pining Kirk, Protective Bones, Protective Spock, Tarsus IV, Uhura is a good friend, bones is a great friend, dunno what im doing at this point, lots of swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 01:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10525926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyMrSpook/pseuds/WhyMrSpook
Summary: “You’re the oldest kid I know, sure, but you’re still a kid. I’ll look after you, Jim. Don’t you doubt that. I’m not going anywhere. Now drink up. I’m going to order take-out and you’re damn well going to eat. And you’re not going to class tomorrow. Doctor’s orders.”AKA 4 times Jim felt older than his years, and the 1 time he felt young and infinite.





	

 

F r a n k

They were wrong.

Jim scrunched his face up to keep the tears at bay, hands clenched into fists to distract himself from the burning pain of his shoulder. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t hurt- it didn’t!

They were all wrong. They didn’t know anything.

“You’re a stupid little boy, Jimmy.” Frank had said, slurring and drunk the way that he never had been at the start. Jim knew this because Sam had told him. It hadn’t always been this bad. Jim had been a little kid, once, and things had been okay then. Jim didn't remember that because he was too young. In fact, Jim was the youngest, but he definitely wasn’t stupid. He was older than they thought he was, because he had to do things other boys his age didn’t. He’d learned how to look after himself and he was _actually_ pretty clever, because he knew that wasn’t even his job. It was his mom’s job and his dad’s job, to look after him. It was supposed to be, anyway, but they weren’t there to do it.

Jim liked to think if his dad were alive, if he knew what Jim was going through, he’d swoop on his starship like the Hero everyone said he was and take him away to safety. Only he’d never known his dad - besides the documentaries and anniversaries and school projects that always made him feel like screaming and crying. He’d only done that when he was a kid; he was older now and had learned not to.

He also liked to think that maybe on his mother’s next visit home that she might finally notice. Sometimes he wasn’t sure if she even remembered they existed back on earth, when she was out in space exploring the stars. The other kids in Jim’s class thought it was cool to have Starfleet officers as parents, but Jim disagreed. His dad was dead and his mom might as well have been for all he knew. What mattered was, they weren’t there. It had bothered him more when he was younger and stupider, but now he was older and cleverer.

Only, when he was a dumb little kid, he’d had Sam too. His big brother. No matter what, Sam protected him. He’d not needed to be clever and strong, because Sam had done that for him. He’d been the only one to listen to him when he’d screamed and cried. He’d got him to school on time and hid his books and helped with his homework. Jim was clever enough to realise that other big brothers didn’t have to do that sort of thing either, but he kept his mouth shut. That was something else he’d learned to do with time. It didn’t matter, anyway, because Sam was gone now. Sam had left him alone and though he was still the youngest, Jim felt older now. He had to be older, anyway, because he had to do the big-brotherly things that Sam couldn’t anymore. He learned to get himself to school, and either avoid or beat up the bullies on the way. He learned to do his homework in the diner by the mechanics on the corner and then hide it, with his precious books, in the barn before he got back to the house. Somewhere Frank wouldn't find it.

Jim still had trouble keeping his mouth shut. He was good at the important stuff, like lying about bruises and not complaining to people who didn't want to know. But to Frank, he had trouble being a good boy. That’s why Sam left, Jim knew. Because he kept talking back at Frank and getting them both in trouble. “You’re a stupid little boy, Jimmy.” Frank had said, his grip vice like on Jim’s arm. Because Jim was cleverer now, sure, but not strong enough. Not yet. He had nowhere else to go but home and home meant Frank.

Jim had tugged his arm away and knocked over a practically empty bottle, and then everything had gone to hell. Frank was too out of it to really hurt Jim- he was fast enough to evade the swinging hits aimed at him, for the most part. The throbbing pain in his shoulder reminded him he wasn’t invincible yet. He wasn’t the hero his father had been.

At least he’d managed not to cry.

Jim was nine years old. But tomorrow he’d be ten. Then he’d see how strong he could be, and how clever and brave he could be too.

 

T a r s u s

Jim walked away from the cave thinking that if someone were to sneak up on him at that very moment, he’d welcome it. He’d want the end to come swiftly and by surprise, but he’d welcome it nonetheless. He was so tired of fighting. What was the alternative – starving to death? Watching another ally die, and another? Child after child. If someone could just jump him- stab him in the back, real swift like. Then he couldn’t feel guilty about giving up on everything. He wouldn’t have time to. There would be only sweet, welcoming nothing. Maybe his dad.

That being said, his grip didn’t loosen on the knife in his hand as he stalked through the woodland. It was habit, to move silently and stealthily. Only now he was down a kid to protect. He hated himself for thinking it, but he was glad. That was one less mouth to feed. That was one less suffering child.

He’d used to think about age in absolutes. When he was ten, he’d realised nothing was quite so simple. Age didn’t equate to strength or intelligence or bravery. Necessity did. Before Tarsus, with Frank, he’d been as strong as he’d needed to be for himself. He’d been clever enough to avoid Frank, to keep his head down in school and do all his work. He’d been brave enough to stay and face his step-father – even if it had taken him a long time to realise that. (Once, he’d berated himself for not being brave enough to leave. That wasn’t the point. The point was he’d survived). 

Maybe he’d just never left home because he’d thought that eventually, Frank might kill him. He’d gotten to a point, maybe when he was about twelve, where he’d thought that was better than running and trying to make a life somewhere else. Like now, he continued to survive. He didn’t really know how not to. Survive, survive, survive. One foot in front of the other, never stopping. Reckless, adrenaline seeking, trouble-provoking and argumentative, always. But never quite enough to just be done with it already and die. Maybe he wasn’t brave at all.

He felt years older than he was now. He felt like he’d been on Tarsus for a lifetime. Sometimes, on the still nights when it wasn’t too cold, when none of the others were troubled by nightmares, when they had stopped running for just a while – then he’d let himself imagine another life. Where the aches in his legs and back weren’t wounds, they were just a product of genuine old age. When the pain in his chest and stomach wasn’t hunger, it was heartburn or something old people got. He’d let his eyes drift closed as they so desperately wanted to and imagine he was his father, injured and broken but still fighting, despite the pain. Then his eyes would snap open to the night sky and he’d return to full alert. Survive, survive, survive. Protect the children. Try and preserve some of the innocence he’d lost the day his brother had left him to fend off Frank for himself. He’d keep on fighting back until the end. He’d survive, despite everything, until there really, honestly, was no other choice. He may have wanted to die, but it wasn’t an option.

He was the only one who could help them. The only one clever enough, strong enough and old enough to know how to keep them all alive. He was the oldest of them all. Older than he’d ever imagined he would be and, despite everything, he thought he’d probably get older still. He kept on walking, leaving the concealed cave of his dead friends far behind as he made along the path back to his living ones.

If he had a single damn thing to do with it, they’d live to be fourteen too.

 

B o n e s

“Forget about him, Jimmy. The guy was a total jerk.”

Jim agreed and disagreed at the same time. Gary wasn’t a jerk. He’d been intelligent and funny and normal. Of course, he’d been an insensitive dick at the same time, but in comparison to some of his past relationships he was still the only person Jim had ever considered letting himself love.

Jim didn’t say this. He rolled over and faced the wall, because anything was better than letting Bones see him upset. Again. It was pathetic, really. He’d learned not to cry when he was a kid. He was fucking eighteen now and one pissy boyfriend leaving the fucking planet wasn’t going to break him. He’d faced abuse and starvation and his own fucked up mind. Gary was just doing what his career demanded of him. That’s why they were all there, a part of Starfleet. He wouldn’t have done any different. He just expected a bit more of a goodbye than being fucked against the wall and then left in the middle of the night, one fucked up note on his bedside table.

“Jim, you need to eat.” Bones said softly, then, changing his tactics. Jim wasn’t going to get angry about this because there was nothing to be angry over. It was his own fault for getting too attached. If anything, this had been the wake-up call he needed. Nothing was more important than his career. He should be more like Bones. Bones had learned from his ex-wife and kept his focus on his work now. He was a good doctor and a dedicated one. Jim had allowed himself to be distracted from his studies, but he wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“Tea, Jim. And an energy bar.” A beat passed and he heard Bones sigh. The guilt trip was coming and he knew it. Bones had kept him alive and functioning this far, he wasn't about to stop for one heartbreak. “For me.”

He grimaced and then rolled back over, forcing himself to sit up. “Sure, Bones.” He didn’t sound like himself. He sounded hoarse and weak, and the way Bones was looking at him he’d bet his appearance wasn’t much better. That wasn’t a surprise. Gary had left him on Saturday morning and it was Sunday night now- or probably Monday morning. Jim hadn't bothered getting out of bed all weekend to look at a clock, but Bones had only just gotten back from a weekend away so it must have been quite late.

“You look like shit, kid. C’mon, I got you.” Bones stuffed another pillow behind his back, holding him up by his forearm. “There, now eat up.” He was presented with one of the few energy bars he could actually eat without fucking dying from allergies. There was a damn reason he’d been roomed with the best doctor in the Academy, and it sure as hell wasn’t for the pleasure of either of them. It was just a lucky bonus that they got on so well and Bones cared so much.

“Why’d you bother, Bones? Just leave me like everyone else.” He snorted, but took a bite anyway. The bar turned to dust in his mouth, ashy and unwelcome. He choked it down before Bones could notice his discomfort, though he probably knew anyway. Bones observed things most others overlooked completely; when Jim had finally told him about Tarsus, his friend had replied with a long list of symptoms that suddenly made ‘so much sense’. By the time Jim told him about Frank, his friend had learned to keep his observations to himself.

“Never gonna happen.” Bones took the bar from his hand, barely a mouthful of it gone, and replaced it with a cup of hot tea. “Try that first.” He instructed, watching Jim through keen eyes until he’d lifted the mug to his lips and taken a sip. At that point he looked moderately appeased and relaxed a little at the foot of Jim’s bed, throwing his feet up onto the mattress.

“What time is it?”

“Nearly midnight. I’d have come earlier if you’d said you were this bad, you know.” Jim didn’t doubt that his best friend would have done exactly that. Maybe that was precisely why he hadn’t elaborated in his brief text to inform Bones he wouldn’t be seeing Gary clogging up their dorm anymore.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m fine. It’s life. Let’s be real, it’s not the worst thing I’ve ever gone through is it?” He snorted, blandly, finding no humour in the situation whatsoever. It was depressingly true. Bones, at least, seemed to appreciate that.

“The fact that you’re even saying that - damn eighteen years old and you think a break up isn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened to you. That just isn’t right. You’re too old for your years, kid.”

“You think you’d stop calling me kid, in that case.” Jim actually laughed then and sipped his tea again. It _was_ helping, reluctant though he was to admit it, but maybe the warmth in his chest was more Bones than the tea. That being said he hadn’t bothered to feed himself or hydrate since he’d read Gary’s note, so maybe it was a combination of the two.

“Nope. You’re the oldest kid I know, sure, but you’re still a kid. I’ll look after you, Jim. Don’t you doubt that. I’m not going anywhere. Now drink up. I’m going to order take-out and you’re damn well going to eat. And you’re not going to class tomorrow. Doctor’s orders.”

Jim smiled blandly, raising his cup to his lips again. He felt like lifetimes had passed since he was a kid. He felt old and tired and hurt in more ways than he’d ever been before. Since he was a kid he’d kept his emotions guarded as best he could. It didn’t hurt when his mother left, she was just going to work. It didn’t hurt that Frank didn’t love him, he was a burden. It didn’t hurt that Sam had abandoned him, Sam had opportunities to follow elsewhere. On Tarsus, the younger kids wouldn’t have coped if they’d known how scared he was, so he just didn’t show them. After Tarsus, broken in every way, he’d gritted his teeth through therapy and saved everything that hurt for the confines of his bedroom – his mother, finally in the next room, though Jim found he no longer wanted her. She’d come too late to save him. Now he was an adult in _all_ ways, not just mentally.

It did hurt. He could admit that now. Gary leaving hurt him so that his lung felt weak again. But he had his best friend and his doctor, who had sworn to stay with him and look after him. Bones was old too, in his own way, and they understood each other through that. He could hurt for one night, he figured. Tomorrow he’d pick himself up, go to class and continue on with his life. Keep on surviving, until his physical body caught up with his tired, old mind.

 

U h u r a

Jim felt ancient as the medal was pinned to his chest. He certainly didn’t feel like a Captain. It was all he’d been working for since he was seventeen, and now it was here he was more scared of it than anything else he’d ever encountered in his life. The bureaucracy of it all, the pomp and ceremony and utter fickle nature of the handshaking and contact making. It was all empty words and bland smiles and poorly concealed attempts to get on his good side.

“You have old eyes Kirk, did you know that?”

He turned, almost apprehensive at his new companion. He’d managed to escape to the smoking area outside for a breath of air, ironic though it might have been. He’d been passed around like a doll to admiralty and his superiors all evening. The great Captain Kirk. Already living up to his father’s legacy.

“Punishment for my youthful, glorious face I guess.” He replied to Uhura, flashing her a charming smile. “How’re you doing, Uhura?”

“Not too bad actually.” She snorted. “Well, I’ve been better. Spock and I broke up, but I guess I should have seen that one coming.”

Jim swallowed, his head suddenly fixed stiffly on the spot of wall he’d been staring at. _He_ saw it coming, but only because of his mind meld with other Spock. Other Spock, whose universe never had a Spock and Uhura getting it on. Just a Spock and Jim, together more than anything Jim had ever experienced in his life. More than life itself. For someone who’d spent all his life just surviving, that wasn’t something he said lightly. It wasn’t something the Spock and Jim from the other world had said lightly either, and he heard their voices in his head like memories and visions he could never escape.

“He’s been through a lot, I guess.”

“We all have.” Uhura pressed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re doing pretty well out there, Captain. You’re a natural at this stuff.” He was scared of Uhura, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. He couldn’t tell if she hated him, respected him or tolerated him. He supposed it was equally as possible that it was a combination of all three.

“Thanks, Lieutenant.” He dragged his gaze away from the wall finally. “I have had some help along the way though.”

Most notably, a bunch of stolen memories floating around in his head telling him what was probably the wrong thing to say. Not whole memories, though. Just impressions and emotions, and the occasional image. Who knew a Vulcan could feel so strongly. This was about the first time the residue of their meld had come in useful too; the rest of the time it was simply a pain in the fucking neck. He kept looking in the mirror expecting to see himself older and stockier, with curlier hair and a wider smile. Worse, he kept expecting to see Spock appear behind him – to feel strong arms wrap around his waist and hold him tightly. The first chance he got he was going to have to get in contact with other Spock and get him to reverse whatever crazy head stuff he’d done to him. If he left it any longer, either Jim would break and scare Spock away completely, or Bones would break him to find out what was wrong.

There was a whole other life inside his head. The life of another man, older and braver and stronger. Jim was further away from his counterpart than the Spocks were, he thought. He would do his best to be the man he was supposed to be. He was young, even if he didn’t feel it. There was so much more to learn and see. He had time to do it all. This ridiculous ceremony was just the start of something so much greater.

He was Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise. He was the frightened little boy thinking himself a man because he’d learned not to cry. He was the teenager, surviving in spite of everything; surviving to protect others’ childhoods regardless of the fact he’d missed his own. He was the young man, working harder than the rest of the Academy put together because he had a goal, and he’d be damned if he didn’t achieve it. He was all of these lifetimes and more.

“Yeah, well I can’t say that your ego survived Nero completely intact.” Uhura’s laugh was melodic and calming. Jim had a strong sense that they might be very good friends one day, and he didn’t intend to let that opportunity pass. “But I’m not sure whether that’s actually a good thing or not.”

“Stick around, Communications Officer." He drew the word out slowly, teasing momentarily before he remembered who the hell he was talking to. He didn't feel secure enough in their tentative friendship yet to risk encurring her wrath. "We can find out together.”

“I think I’ll do just that, Captain.” Uhura didn't glare at him. In fact, she smiled brightly, and his worry melted away again. It was a real smile, too. Not the half put, bitter ones she’d flashed him in sarcasm so far in their acquaintance. “You know, Chekov and I have a little distraction planned – if you wanted to take those old eyes home for some rest.”

Jim grinned despite himself. “You know what, that sounds perfect. What do you have planned?” The idea that the young Chekov, actually young at eighteen where Jim had been old still, even then, and Uhura were plotting together both thrilled and terrified him. He had a feeling his bridge crew were going to be quite an interesting bunch to work with, officially.

“Just a little song and dance. Nothing so extreme that the Admiralty won’t have forgotten by tomorrow morning. Hopefully.” She smiled again, genuine and comforting. Uhura gave off such a warming vibe and it was very easy to forget how scary she could be when she was being nice to him. “Follow me through in about a minute. I just need to drag Chekov away from Sulu.”

Another development Jim had been completely unaware of. He inhaled slowly, glancing up at the night sky they’d soon be exploring again.

“You know, I still care about Spock a lot. He’s my best friend.” She said suddenly, and Jim’s vision snapped back to her. “It’s probably not my place to say, Captain, but he’s pretty shook up about everything that happened, even if he denies it. I think you’re one of the few people left alive who might be able to see through him.” She patted his shoulder one final time and then turned on her heel and returned to the ceremony. Jim stared at her, baffled and sort of hopeful. His counterpart had been able to see through his own Spock too. Maybe it was meant to be.

 

+

S p o c k

“Do you play, Captain?”

Those words might as well have been fatal. Or perhaps, Jim’s stumbling reply that yes, in fact, he did play Chess – though he hadn’t since he was a child. It had actually been since Sam had left him, but he didn’t tell Spock that. Regardless, that had resulted in three games in a row in the Officer’s mess. Jim won the final one, and Spock had looked almost relaxed – though Jim was anything but. This was exactly what he’d wanted. A public setting, an easy activity, something to help him bond with his First Officer more than just nearly dying together. He had no idea why he’d felt so nervous. Especially when things got much worse for him. For a few weeks they’d continued to play in the mess and Jim had relaxed into it, trying to enjoy Spock for the sake of his company, rather than obsess on how pretty he was in the dim lights, or how good his slender hands and fingers would feel on his skin.

Now, somehow, inexplicably after their bridge shift, they’d ended up in Jim’s quarters instead of the mess, and Jim had felt like a seventeen year old bringing a date home for the first time. But this wasn’t a date. This was Spock. His friend, still in the tentative, and his colleague. His everything, in another world. Just not this world. Their world. He poured himself a drink to fight off the butterflies in his stomach and took a gulp, watching Spock set up the chess board expertly.

“Doctor McCoy indicated that you require an additional rest period tomorrow. I presume you do not intend to take this.” Spock’s eyes flicked up to his then, focused and intense. God he was gorgeous. Those eyes bore into his soul and terrifying though that thought was, Jim couldn’t stop himself imagining meeting that gaze in bed, as Spock lost control and pleasure washed over his features. He imagined meeting that gaze over their breakfast table, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. He imagined meeting that gaze on the Bridge and knowing there was no-one on earth who knew him like Spock did.

Jim raised his glass again, lest Spock see how fucking distracted he was, and snorted blandly. “No, Spock. I’m fine. Bones worries too much.” With good reason, sure, but there were four hundred people on their ship who needed their CMO just as much as Jim did. Or they needed him at least – Jim did spend an unparalleled amount of time with Bones, in the sickbay. Followed closely by Spock, though.

“In contrast, Captain, I believe he worries a perfectly rational amount given your inclination to not value your own worth to the ship.”

Jim stared, just for a moment, and then nodded. “Sure.” He laughed then, nervously. “Agreeing with Bones, Spock? You sure _you’re_ alright?”

“Affirmative, Jim.”

Spock moved his first pawn. His nimble fingers retracted and the next move was Jim’s. He found his mouth had gone dry, because Spock’s gaze had not retracted from his face and he felt vulnerable in a way he’d never experienced before. Then no, not vulnerable. The world vulnerable to him meant opening up to his mom about how much he hated Frank, and having her throw it back in his face. It meant laying naked on a hospital bed after Tarsus while Doctor’s poked and prodded his thin frame. To be vulnerable was unacceptable and Jim would never allow it again.

So this wasn’t vulnerability. This was like Bones, sitting by his bed in the middle of the night after a nightmare and refusing to leave until he was damn sure he was alright. It was trust.

“Spock.” He picked his pawn up.

“May I offer you some observations, Jim?”

He nodded, because he didn’t trust himself to speak, pawn twisting between his fingers anxiously.

“You and I have spent approximately seventy eight point nine percent of our off-duty time together, disregarding sleeping hours.” Jim swallowed, but Spock continued and looked perfectly at ease for doing so. “We maintain eye contact for approximately three seconds longer than towards others. We gravitate towards each other in most social situations and have each proven on multiple occasions we would rather die than let the other come to harm-“

“Spock! I get it.” He placed his pawn down again. “We got off to a rocky start, right? I mean, you hated me. With good cause.” He didn’t suggest that he hated Spock too. Even if he thought he might have at the start - he knew what it was to truly hate, and he’d never hated Spock really.

“While my feelings towards you were initially unpleasant, I find your statement questionable. I am not capable of hating you, and your words and actions were ultimately necessary.”

“Yeah- well- my point is that I’ve tried to be a good friend to you Spock. You… you lost your mom, for fucks sake. And your whole world. I just wanted to be here for you.”

“You disregarded your own feelings to protect my own?”

“Sure?” He squirmed a little under Spock’s gaze. “I didn’t exactly disregard my feelings, Spock. I just… If all you wanted to give me was friendship, then that would be enough.” He told himself that, at least. It probably wouldn’t last him for very long, because it was torture to be near Spock and not get anything more than a few seconds of eye contact. “Just don’t… don’t list to me all the little observations that suggest the intimacy of our relationship unless you’re telling me you like me. Because I like you, Spock, I like you a lot. And I can ignore how I feel – repress, disregard, whatever – if I need to.”

“I do not wish for you to do so. I would not have reported my findings to you had I not felt they were worth discussion.” Spock stood up. “In this case, I find the definition of discussion to be perceptible to change.” He declared, before striding the short distance around the table and bending towards Jim. “If I may, Jim.”

“Yes-“ He cleared his throat, embarrassed at the completely breathiness of his own voice “Yes, you may.” Then lips captured his swiftly and nothing else mattered anymore. Jim was 27 years old, the Captain of the USS Enterprise and being snogged by the man – Vulcan – of his dreams. Everything else didn’t matter.

“Jim.” Spock moved his mouth away slowly, dragging his lips across Jim’s cheek and breathing softly against his ear. “Thank you for allowing me time and for being my friend.”

“That’s – yeah, that’s okay, Spock.” He probably needed that time anyway, to grow into his role as Captain without being obsessed with Spock every single moment of his existence. It was bad enough just as friends. “Kiss me again?”

“I should hope so.” Spock replied, placing a knee on the side of Jim’s chair and reaching forwards again to kiss him again. Jim grinned against his lips for a fraction of a second, his hands reaching up into Spock’s perfect hair to pull him down onto the seat properly. He wondered idly how he’d survived the start of their mission without touching Spock at all, now that he was so close and he could feel the heat radiating from him.

All the bad in Jim’s life, the stuff he’d only ever whispered to Bones in the dead of night, or so drunk that the little details escaped him and he didn’t have to look at his friends’ reaction -  it mattered, sure. It made him the man he was. But it didn’t define him. Yes, he _was_ the scared little kid, the messed-up teenager and the unrelenting student. But he was also young still, and made up of infinite possibilities. If there was anything in his life he was certain of, it was that he was more than happy to look back one day and confirm he also consisted of the man in his twenties, captaining a starship with Spock at his side.


End file.
